The Lucan Retribution
by angel-of-animosity
Summary: Juliana' Lucan seeks one thing. Vengeance. After witnessing her family being mercilessly slaughtered, leaving her as the sole survivor; she vows to figure out the killer's motive. Her childhood friend and overnight savior, Derek Hale, produces the only lead. With her unyielding assertion for revenge, and his devoted protection can they find the underlying truth? Derek Hale/OC


**Hello lovely readers, it's ****_angel-of-animosity _****here with yet another fanfic. Recently, I've been watching the show Teen Wolf, and I'm completely addicted! Yes, I just started watching in 2014, so I'm a little late, but who cares, right? :D**

**My favorite character is Derek Hale, therefore I've come up with an OC to pair him with.**

**Please leave a review, that way I'll know if I should continue or not.**

**Enjoy!**

**Prologue**

Pale fog surrounded the entire forest in a heavy gloom, smothering my lungs as I shoved through the dense undergrowth. Branches continuously brushed the sides of my face, penetrating the open bruises on my cheek an forehead; the throbbing pain dulling in comparison to the laceration adorning my rib cage. Gathering the pieces of torn shirt in my hands, I pressed my right to the deep wound, wondering why the healing process hadn't taken effect yet. Pure dread threaded it's way through each limb, the sheer anxiety emitted tremors, hindering my ability to breathe. Raising trembling hands to center focus, I peered at the blood coating my fingers, some of it my own; most of it belonging to my suffering family members.

They were gone. _All of them._

Slaughtered one after the other, right before my eyes. Their merciful screams echoed in my subconscious as if I were living through the massacre repeatedly, utterly helpless; alone.

Whatever monstrosity took part in slaying them endlessly pursued me, the insolent howl north of my destination raised the hairs on my nape; my pulse relentlessly pounding in my ears. I couldn't keep running forever, the radiating soreness of my legs, and consistent twinge in my lungs made that clear.

A thick tree uprooted from the ground lay a couple yards away, the length indiscernible through the impenetrable fog. Despising the impending need to take a break from the pursuit, I expelled a comforting breath; collapsing to the ground. Leaning my backside against the fallen tree, the roots exposed and wiry swelling in all directions. I supposed the odds of the tree surviving without the ground to support it, exemplified my chances of surviving without a family.

_Why did this happen?_ More importantly, who fabricated their demise?

My mind fumbled for a scrap of information, for some form of remembrance, fatigue weighing heavily on my body. I couldn't risk the thought of falling asleep, no matter how desperately the need became. There was still someone out there. No, not someone. _Something._

It had to be a werewolf. Perhaps an Alpha, or maybe a designated pack that adored the thought of preying on others. Whoever it was or happened to be, they would suffer greatly.

I tried to pretend that this was all some sort of nightmare, that any moment I would wake up, continue living my normal life; as normal as an eighteen-year-old inbred werewolf could. Accepting the painful reality that this was not a nightmare I'd be waking up from lingered on my conscience. The back of my throat constricted painfully as I tried holding the tears at bay.

_Why my family?_

I wiped away the blood glazing my left hand using my shirt as a cloth, gingerly touching the necklace that now borne the weight of an anchor; it was a triskelion or spiral, the meaning unknown. Pulling on the delicate piece broke the clasp easily, the familiar weight settled in my hands.

_What would I do now? _There was no one for miles, or perhaps I was predicting the direction of the forest mistakenly. Another bellicose howl erupted nearby, closer than the last. A shuddering breath escaped my lungs, misty vapor filling the air as I listened intently to my surroundings. The leaves on the trees twisted and mangled illuminated by the crescent moon ciphering through the fog, highlighted nothing of importance.

A beast lurked in the shadows, murderous intentions progressing by the second. I couldn't lay here an accept the fact I was the one being hunted; stalked by an unknown predator. The wind whistled, sending delicate strands of hair gliding across my mouth; clinging to my cheeks. Clenching moist dirt in an attempt to stand, I grimaced as the laceration pricked my side like a million acupuncture needles.

"Come on," I coaxed myself on a harsh whisper. "Get up."

I had to. If I were to chance living or dying, I would choose to live; no matter the cruel state of depression I was bound to endure.

Leaves rustled, crunching underneath someone's weight. _He was here._ Somewhere.

A fresh sheen of perspiration bathed my forehead, dripped down my back; my hands shook violently as I tried squelching all inner thoughts of despair. I clenched my jaw, holding the burgeoning anxiety down in the pit of my stomach, ceasing my lips from quavering.

Using my hands to support my body, I pressed my back against the fallen tree, gripping the bark with my fingers; steadily raising myself upward. A wheeze of cold air overhead caught my abrupt attention, the shadow of a looming figure obscured my eyesight as an unexpected abundance of weight pinned me to the ground.

I expelled a warning growl, considering how much good that would do since I no longer had the advantage. A hand grasped my shoulder, rotating me sideways, the dampness of the forest floor soaking through my thin t-shirt and camisole.

Suppressing a whimper, I discerned my fate; envisioning a short but severe death. The foreseen misery never ensued.

Familiar sage green eyes raked over my frame, concern interlaced in their mossy green depths. The crescent moon cast precise light on rugged features, highlighting a square jaw and taut forearms concealed behind a long sleeved gray t-shirt. _Derek Hale._

Instantly a feeling of pure security wrapped itself around me; sheltering like a blanket. All the ill-fated thoughts departed from my mind, along with it the anxiety; the fear.

He examined my lower torso, lifting my shirt a few inches, blood further staining the used fabric. Callused fingertips traced a pattern over my abdomen, currents of air causing my skin to tighten; goosebumps to crest.

I inhaled lightly, wondering how I could begin to describe this horrid night in explicit detail. My parents, along with my only younger sibling were dead. How did one go about explaining that without breaking down in the process?

"Derek..." A fresh sheen of moisture coursed down my cheeks. Repressing the tears, I tossed my head in denial; sinking my teeth into my lower lip. _They couldn't be dead, not truly._

"Shhh." He soothed on a whisper, his gaze sweeping the forest thoroughly. "It's gone now."

_It?_ My family's killer couldn't even be directly identified?

"I need...to find it." I voiced, as my breathing became shallower with every inhalation.

"Not in this condition, you're not." Derek placed his hands firmly behind my back, gripping each shoulder blade before pulling me upward, cushioning my body to the firm expanse of his chest; I absorbed his scent, a musk mixed with the natural forest.

"Don't tell me what to do." I uttered weakly, my limbs refusing to carry my own weight; I laid my head on his shoulder hesitantly.

"At least I know your not dying." His fingertips worked through my scalp lightly, sifting some leaves knotted into the long strands. "You're still coherent enough to give orders, but that doesn't mean I'll follow them."

I hummed contently, feeling the scenery right itself behind closed eyelids. "Typical."

Suddenly, I felt my body being lifted, the sharp pain in my side evoking a groan of discomfort. Adjusting one arm around Derek's neck, I nestled my head into the curve of his shoulder, drifting into a light slumber as his resounding footsteps in the packed dirt continued a steady rhythm.

* * *

_**a few hours later...**_

Inhaling the scent of rotting wood and smoke, I cleared my throat repeatedly; a bead of sweat dripping down my neck caused a tremor to overtake my body. Rubbing a hand over my eyes, I flexed them at my sides. Blinking rapidly, I peered around the room until it came into focus.

"You were out for hours, Jules." The familiar voice echoed throughout the house, it's charred remains the result of a fire. Flickers of the house before and after the inferno lingered in my subconscious. _The Hale House._

Lifting myself off the floor on unsteady limbs using the wall for balance, I leveled my vision up the carbonized staircase, most of them missing or irreparably broken. I could only imagine the bloodshed staining the walls of my own home, a memory of what had taken place tonight; leaving my life forever changed.

"Why did you bring me here?" I asked, placing my hand on the sliced fabric near my rib cage, coming in contact with only skin. I healed remarkably, even under the onslaught of mourning over my family's death.

"To heal. And then to talk." Came the reserved answer from afar.

"Talk? What is there to talk about?" I asked sharply, fatigue leaned heavily on my entire frame; threatening to pull me back into black oblivion.

A swift movement in my peripheral vision halted me in my faltering steps, the arm clasped around my waist bearing most of my weight.

"Easy, there." Derek's voice soothed my fragile state of mind, his solid chest conforming to the rigid way my backside refused to compress against him.

"What are you doing back in town, Derek?"

Unaware of how long it had really been since he'd left, I curiously wondered how much more it would take to accept the fact he was alone, and there was nothing he could do about it but wallow in that knowledge. Much like I was at this very moment.

"Laura's dead." He answered, no thread of emotion conveyed his words; the feelings he camouflaged.

The mention of death brought back the memories of tonight in vivid color, hefting the tears along with it. "I'm so sorry, Derek." Though I was truly upset over my own situation, I committed my mind to remembering the lose of her life as something to dwell on later.

"There's an Alpha out there, Jules."

"An Alpha?" Is that who had killed his sister?_ Perhaps my family too?_

"He bit someone tonight." Derek loosened his grip on my waist, resting both hands on my forearms.

I turned sharply, taken aback by the news, mindful of his gentle touch. "Do you know who it is?"

Shaking his head, a few of his fingertips brushed my temple; wiping away the dirt that lingered there. The gesture was nonchalant, but I couldn't ignore the ache unfurling in my stomach. "I'm just investigating, but I know that I can't let that boy who received the bite go at it alone."

I understood his meaning, but another thought plagued me. "Do you think my family's death tonight has some kind of connection to Laura, or this boy?"

"That's what I need to figure out, but I can't do that _and_ protect you."

"What makes you think I need _your_ protection?" I countered, connecting with those sinful green eyes belonging to the boy I'd known since childhood.

"Because whoever killed your family won't stop until he's killed you." His words immersed in my conscience, stirring my expired thought process. The Lucan Lines _would_ thrive, _would_ carry on it's legacy; no matter what I had to sacrifice. I'd already let my family down, paying for not defending them sooner. I blamed myself. It would _always_ be my fault.

"Hey." He applied pressure to both my forearms, the soft squeeze concluded my self-condemning; persuading me to look at him. "You can't blame yourself."

"You blame yourself, so why can't I?"

He studied the contours of my face, overlooking the flourishing challenge directed in my gaze. "Because you and I are different."

"No Derek, you and I are exactly the same." I forcibly removed the comforting hold he had on my arms; voice quavering as I tried to prevent more tears from surfacing. "We've lost everything._ Everything._"

Kneading my temples with trembling fingers, I inhaled a shuddering breath. "I don't want your protection."

"Then what _do_ you want?" He asked, his gaze searching mine for some unknown emotion.

A moment of silence reigned between us as I gathered myself, nails biting into the palms of my hands. "I want vengeance."


End file.
